The Snow of the Storm
by sugarmousequills
Summary: Romione short. It's a few days after the pair's first Christmas in their new home and the snow has set. Will Ronald finally understand the concept of the Muggle 'snowman?


So I used these prompts as the basis of this fic:

Sweaters

Snowball Fights

Hot Chocolate/Hot Drinks

* * *

Picking up her new copy of 'Blossoming Love', Hermione sank into her favourite armchair. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands and began to read.

This was the second time she'd read the book, and she'd only received it for Christmas. The tale was compelling and it was a chore to put it down.

* * *

She was awoken from her 'trance' by the chink of china on glass. Two steaming mugs sat on the coffee table beside her. Hands pressed lightly on the girl's shoulders and she looked up.

"You're not reading that again, are you?" Ron was grinning down at her.

"Ronald, what have I told you about criticising my reading habits?" A small smile played on her lips.

The boy huffed, sarcastically, before lifting a pink mug and holding it out to her. "Hot chocolate, extra marshmallows."

Hermione rolled her eyes, placing the mug at her lips. The sweet taste of chocolate filled her mouth and she saw Ron take a sip from his own as he moved to a chair across from her.

"Have you looked outside yet?" he said, a wide smile plastered on his face.

"No," Hermione replied, questioningly.

Ron raised an eyebrow and watched the girl pad towards the window. Her face lit up as the curtains parted. Snow. The groud was covered in a thick layer of white, and heavy drops were still falling. Undisturbed, the snow glistened, almost beckoning the pair.

"So, what do you want to do today?"

Hermione turned, still beaming. She didn't need to reply, they were both thinking the same thing. Holding the hot drink in both hands, she made her way over to Ron, allowing the heat from her mug to work its way through her system.

She perched on the arm of his chair, and squealed when the boy's hands were at her hips.

"Ronald, stop it!"

"You can't _not_ tickle a ticklish person!" he said, with a devilish grin.

"But my drink!" Hermione protested.

"Put it down, then!"

She complied and immediately regretted it. Ron's tickling was the worst: he never failed to make her squirm, tears of laughter forming under her lashes.

"Stop – it," she said, between giggles.

"Come here, you." Ron pulled Hermione onto his lap. She collapsed into him, bringing her arms around his neck. Their lips connected and Ron held the girl close. Pulling away, Hermione let a shy smile form on her face.

"I love you, Ronald Weasley."

"I love you, too, 'Mione."

Already dressed, Hermione stood and said, "I'll get my coat and meet you back here in five minutes. And, for heaven's sake, don't go out dressed like that!"

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Ron asked in mock offense.

"They're your pyjamas! Besides, you'll catch a cold."

Taking back her book, Hermione left for her bedroom.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Hermione returned.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione. How long does it take to put a coat on?"

"I got distracted," she admitted with a giggle.

Ron shook his head, still smiling. "You can never put that book down, can you? I'll be sure to tell that to my mother."

Slipping gloves over her slender fingers, the girl followed Ron outside. "Snowman?" he asked, grinning.

"Sure." However, Hermione had other plans in mind.

As the ball of the snow got larger in Ron's hand, he heard Hermione call, "You know you could just use magic."

"I want to do it the Muggle way, like you used to." He beamed up at her, clearly impressed with himself.

Shaking her head in amusement, she formed a snowball of her own.

"Is this-" THUMP. The lump of snow hit Ron right on the back of the head. "You little-"

"Ronald, no!" she squealed as the boy began to chase her across the lawn. Just as his fingers gripped the sides of her jacket, Ron slipped on a patch of hidden ice. He landed on his back with a thud.

Hermione couldn't help herself. The laughter erupted and tears were leaking from her eyes, freezing on her cheeks. After her initial outburst, Hermione started towards him. "Are you all right?" As she leant over, hands grabbed her shoulders and Ron was pulling her down. She giggled as his lips grazed hers. "You asked for it!"

"How did I?" he asked, laughing himself.

"Your head is just one big, red target."

"Hey – unfair!"

"But true." A cheeky grin touched her lips before she placed them on Ron's.

"Do you know something?"

"What?"

"It's bloody cold."


End file.
